


I want to scream and have it be heart-wrenchingly melodic, but instead, it just sounds like the strings inside me snapping one by one

by Illumina



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: 2020 L'Manberg Election on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Angry Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Angst, Bad Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Technoblade Friendship (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Deity Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Deity Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Emotional Hurt, Exiled TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Explosions, Hurt No Comfort, Immortal Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Insane Wilbur Soot, Insanity, Other, Protective Wilbur Soot, Scared TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Suicidal Thoughts, Wilbur Soot Angst, Wilbur Soot-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29174931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illumina/pseuds/Illumina
Summary: Wilbur doesn't even know what he is fighting for anymore.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Wilbur Soot, Floris | Fundy & Wilbur Soot, Floris | Fundy & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Jschlatt & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Jschlatt & Wilbur Soot, Niki | Nihachu & Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 7
Kudos: 116





	I want to scream and have it be heart-wrenchingly melodic, but instead, it just sounds like the strings inside me snapping one by one

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: suicidal thoughts and Wilbur is just having a REALLY bad time in this. My man literally gets stabbed by his father. RIP

Wilbur doesn’t think that the fresh air is helping the headache that sticks to him like a second skin. It doesn’t help with the bags under his eyes, the tiredness that clouded his thoughts and the restlessness that remained in his broken bones and under bruised skin despite the fact that he hadn’t slept in a week. His body was exhausted and at its very limit but Wilbur's mind was restless. It was everywhere and nowhere, overwhelmed and underwhelmed and it was just _too much_ and yet _not enough_.

It would never be enough.

He didn’t know if Technoblade sent him out here because he thought that some fresh air would magically fix his problems or because he had hoped that mobs would tear the brunette to pieces.

He could already imagine zombies digging their rotten claws and broken teeth into his skin until they reached his bones. Blood would spill and the grass would turn red and wet, his eyes would remain open and empty, staring into nothingness as the warmth of life was replaced with the cold of death.

Or maybe skeletons would shoot arrows into him until that was all that was left of him, a limp pile of clothes, skin and bones that was no longer Wilbur because the hideous mess the creatures would turn him into would make it impossible for anyone to recognise him.

Or maybe Phantoms would come down from the sky with fiery breaths and burning claws that would tear into his flesh, tear him to pieces while he wailed in relief and agony until he would no longer be able to.

He asked himself if it would be Techno -he couldn’t help but wonder how the other would react to finding him dead- or Tommy -he could basically taste the fear and horror that would well up in those eyes as he cried out for Technoblade or Dream, an _adult_ who could _handle this and make it all okay_ \- or maybe Dream himself -empty eyes and a menacing smile staring at his cooling corpse before pretending that he saw nothing and going on with his day- or Tubbo -helpless sobbing and panicked screeching, a corpse of an old friend was not the sight the kid would have expected when coming to Pogtopia to tell them about whatever was going on in Manberg at the moment- and he wondered what they would do if they found him here, dead.

Would they be sad? Would they be happy? How long would they remember him until his death was nothing but ash that was carried away by the wind, never to be seen again? What would they tell Phil? Would Phil even care after everything he did? Would Phil even shed a tear or be proud of him after everything he had done?

He had built a nation from nothing with his own bare hands and had received not a single letter, had guarded and protected innocent lives after they fought so hard for their freedom and yet, nothing. No praise, no letter, nothing.

And then there was Techno, a man who caused and fought in one war after the other, killed animals, monsters and humans like there was no difference between them and he bathed in the blood, the violence, the cries of terror and the pain that he caused.

And Philza gave him all his praise and warm smiles as if he was a fallen angel that blessed the mortals with every virtue to ever exist.

Maybe Phil would be proud of him after this. And if not, what should he care? He had experienced being nothing to the man so many times that one more wouldn’t hurt him. Maybe he wouldn’t even be around to get hurt, maybe the explosions could drag him away and to a better place. A place where he could live in peace with his friends, a place without Schlatt who had taken away everything that Wilbur ever wanted.

But maybe Schlatt had deserved it? The presidency, the warmth, the votes, the laughter, the everything that Wilbur yearned for. Maybe-

“Am I- am I the bad guy? Am I the villain here?”, he asked out into the night. He had asked Tommy before but the kid had never been the one to see his own mistakes so what was the point in asking him again? He might as well ask the land he fought for, the land he had lost not much later.

“So, you finally learned that you’re the villain. “

Wilbur turned with wide eyes, knees wobbling and hands trembling as he faced an obscene smile and empty, black eyes. Dream stood before him, proud and tall and covered in netherite, his signature axe in his hand as the eyes of his mask burned into Wilbur.

“A couple wars too late but I will take it. “, the blonde added on and Wilbur ripped himself out of his trance and crashing back into reality felt like falling into a river after the ice broke underneath your feet. It tore the air out of your lungs and made you the prisoner of your own desperate thoughts and icy, bitter water.

“I- no, no, no. I am _not_ the bad guy, I _cannot_ be the bad guy- I _made_ this land, I-“

Dream laughed and Wilbur's mouth went dry because it was not his stupid tea kettle laugh, the one he was so well known for, it was ice spikes that rammed through his skin and into his heart. The world was a blur.

“You didn’t fucking build this land, Wilbur Soot. _I did_. I built the earth that you are walking on, I formed the sky that towers over us, the stars and moon and sun that light your path. I created the plants and the animals and the ores you need for surviving, I breathed life into the monsters that will haunt this land until its very fucking end. And y'know what, Wilbur? I decide when this land just withers away and dies. “, he said and grinned, showing nothing but teeth and venom.

“I can let you all die of starvation. Or I take the ground away and let you fall into the void, stealing the air from your lungs and stability from your bones and blood from your veins. I can send every monster to ever exist after you, make lava tear you apart, let it rain until there is no land, no air left for you to breathe and water will fill your lungs until there is nothing left of you. And I will tower of your corpses, over broken bones and ruins and bask in the glory of your screams of agony. “

Wilbur’s ears were ringing, pure white noise mixing with the sounds of the night. His breaths came out short and rapid.

“I- do not- what- I do not understand. “, he mumbled and wrapped his arms around himself for some sort of comfort and stability. It didn’t work, his nails dug through the fabric of his torn old coat and into the warm skin below.

“I do not need you to. “, Dream replied nonchalantly. “I just wanted to remind you, Wilbur, you were _never_ the hero of this story. And you will never be. _You_ tore apart _my_ land and now you want to do even more damage just because you lost an election! Hell, you want to kill your friends, the people who fought and _died_ for you just because you got kicked out of a city and they call _me_ the monster?”, the blonde laughed, a sharp, loud sound that echoed through the air.

“They clearly haven’t seen you, the darkness of your mind, the bitterness of your soul. “

“But you- you gave me the TNT! You- _you are helping me_ , _you are on my side_!”, Wilbur snapped, taking a step forward and pushing his finger into Dream's chest, only to pull his hand away with a hiss because Dream was wearing his armour -Wilbur was not- and it hurt.

“Oh, Wilbur. You have got it all wrong. I was never on your side. I just join the side that can provide me with the most entertainment, a good fight. Chaos. And the only person who is giving me good fights here is Techno. And honestly? I don’t need to be on your side if I want to spar with him. “, he remarked and the blood in Wilbur's veins froze.

“What are you talking about?”

“Figure it out Soot, I thought you were smart? Or have you already submitted to insanity?”

And then in a blink of an eye, Dream was gone, purple particles the only proof that there was ever someone on the spot where he stood.

Wilbur turned around, from one side to another and stumbled back. He nearly tripped over his own feet while his eyes scanned his surroundings for a sign of that bastard. His back bumped into something hard and he jumped away, turning around with wide eyes and a look of horror on his face, only to stare into red orbs, calm like a cold breeze on the first day of winter.

“Technoblade. “, he greeted breathlessly, exhaustion finally slipping into his body as he relaxed a bit. “Wilbur. “, the other retorted blankly. “Came to fetch you, you have been out here on your own for a while. “, he said and the brunette was tempted to tell him about the encounter with Dream but his mouth couldn’t form the words he wanted to say and so he simply nodded and the two of them headed back to Pogyopia in silence.

Tommy was waiting for them and smiled up at Wilbur as they trotted down the stairs. Nervousness radiated off him in waves. If Wilbur were the old Wilbur Soot, the leader, general and protector, he would have told the kid that everything was fine and that he could just go to bed.

But he didn’t know who he was or what he was supposed to be fighting for anymore and so he greeted him with a simple “Tommy.”, and slipped away, towards his bed where he pulled the covers over himself and hoped that it would keep the darkness away.

It didn’t, it never would and Dream was wrong, so wrong because he had let the darkness eat the light and his soul was facing the consequences. It had been this way for too long.

The darkness was pushed away, replaced by fire, smoke and ashes and an unpleasant warmth that burned through the fabric of his coat until he could feel that his skin was burning, bleeding and hurting, the pain ripping him back into reality but what did it matter?

His symphony would remain unfinished. Forever. He was turned, hands gripping his burnt flesh and he would have howled in pain -maybe he did- but the ringing in his ears and the strange numbness in his body, accompanied by the occasional spark of pain made him feel out of it.

Wilbur could see that Philza was talking, saw him moving his mouth but his voice never reached his ears. It didn’t need to, he saw his face and knew that he had wasted his last life, that he had failed.

He finally knew what he was fighting for and he knew that he had lost when Philza showed him nothing but disappointment.

He knew that he had lost when he saw the horror on the faces of his old friends.

He knew that he had lost when he watched Technoblade and Dream create as much chaos as the Withers and the explosion, a team that only ever wanted chaos and violence, they had made that so clear and yet Wilbur only realised it now. He was a fool.

He knew he had lost when he handed the sword to Philza and asked to be killed by his father figure.

He knew he had won when Philza called him his son.

And yet he still lost when Wilbur's own sword was rammed through his throat. He wanted to scream but the only thing he managed to do was choke on his own blood, letting it flow from his mouth and watch Phil sob and pull him into his arms.

This warmth was more pleasant than the one that burned his skin. Wilbur guessed that this must be what love feels like and wished that he could get more of it, a smile making its way onto his bloody lips- 

And then the last string snapped, his life and the warmth slipped out of his grasp as he went limp in Philza's hold. The last thing he heard was Phil's scream and laughter that probably belonged to Technoblade and Dream and then the light made it go away until it all was white static and nothing once more.

And it just was not meant to be.


End file.
